


Three Kids and a Reaper War

by NoisyNoiverns



Series: Jai Shepard [6]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Between missions, Canon Related, Gen, Refugees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 13:29:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20154367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoisyNoiverns/pseuds/NoisyNoiverns
Summary: Shepard is out for a walk when they run into three turian refugees of the smallest variety.





	Three Kids and a Reaper War

The docks were drowsy and quiet as Shepard wandered through, the usual bustle of activity subdued as the refugee camp shook off sleep. Those who were awake, humans lining up for coffee and turians doing their morning PT and batarians going about their lives as any crepuscular species was wont to do, were muted and careful, doing their best to be respectful of everyone still sleeping. C-Sec officers nursing their caffeine source of choice leaned on walls and chatted amongst themselves in soft voices. The customs desk was dark as Shepard passed, some poor exhausted clerk probably off taking a break between incoming ships. Salarian eyes glittered at them from the dark on top of crates and pre-fabs, a familiar sight after so many treks through the Tower, watching them curiously for a few moments before going back to their business.

It was almost strange, how peaceful things could seem in the middle of a war.

Still, it was quiet, and the _Normandy_ had reached the station during the transition point between the “night” and “day,” as much as those things could exist when all you knew beyond the eternal twilight of the Wards was the numbers on a chrono display, so Shepard had opted to just go for a walk while they waited for stores to open and people to start going about their days. It was soothing, in its own way, getting to see the Citadel without all the activity. There was nobody to shout their name and demand their attention, ask questions they couldn’t possibly answer, bring them problems they couldn’t possibly solve. They could simply walk, and observe, and be alone. It was nice.

At least, it was until they turned to meander back to the entrance and spotted three young turians, a toddler and a child huddled by a teenager, standing by the deserted customs desk, and they realized the time of day meant nobody was around to help.

Except for maybe, it occurred to them, a Spectre on break.

Picking up their pace, they trotted up to the kids. They weren’t facing Shepard, just waiting by the desk and watching the door where the C-Sec officer would come in for the day. The older two sported backpacks that looked fully stuffed, and the eldest carried a third pack in one hand, presumably for the little one. Their clothes were wrinkled and mussed like they’d been slept in a few nights in a row, and patches of what could have been dirt or dust clung to the fabric. As Shepard approached, they heard the teenager assuring the younger two, “It’s okay, Dad said there’d probably be a couple hours where there was nobody there, we just have to wait.”

The middle one trilled. _“Si durup vuk Siön shi-”_

“Shut _up,_ Kaevus, you’re gonna scare –”

Shepard cleared their throat. “You guys alright?”

All three jumped, and as they turned, Shepard’s heart jumped. They’d overestimated how old the teenager was; he was tall, but his face was too young to be at all close to adulthood. If he were human, they guessed he might have been maybe fourteen or so. A _tall_ fourteen-year-old, but a fourteen-year-old. And, really, who even _knew _how that translated to turian terms. His crest reached only a little further than the back of his skull, ruddy brown plates unmarked by time or tattoo. The older of the two younger ones was steel-gray, crest only just barely reaching the back of his head; probably only flirting with puberty. Up close, Shepard could see a clump of cobweb wedged between the kid’s horns that hadn’t been removed properly. The third child had already disappeared behind the oldest’s legs, but Shepard caught a glimpse of a single wide, amber eye peeking out at them and a tiny mud-brown hand curled into baggy cargo pants.

The oldest put one arm out, herded the gray back behind him as intelligent teal eyes looked Shepard up and down. Finally, he asked, “You’re Shepard, aren’t you? I think I’ve seen you in the vids.”

Shepard nodded automatically, wondering what kind of vids made it into turian territory. “That’s me.”

The gray chirped. _“Zūx vūsotus six Parpat?”_

Shepard frowned. “What’d he say?”

The oldest click-whistled and twisted to look at the gray. “Of _course_ they do, dummy, they’re a _Spectre_. Look, just let me do the talking, they can’t understand you.”

The gray scowled, but lowered his head, and the oldest looked back at Shepard. “Sorry, I’m the only one with a translator. Our _parpat_...” He paused, twitched his mandibles, apparently realized Shepard wouldn’t know what that meant, and started again. “Dad’s dad, our grandfather, he works in the embassies. Dad said, once we get to the Citadel, we’d find Parpat, and we’d go stay with him and Parmat. But Mom and Dad got held up, and we got on different shuttles, and they won’t get here until later, so Dad said to find somebody who could help us get to them.”

Shepard’s brows lowered even more. “Can you call them yourself? Did your dad get in touch with them, tell them what’s going on?”

“No, security blocks. Dad tried, but comms aren’t very good, he said probably ’cause of the war and how many people are trying to get in touch with people. The comm didn’t connect, and he said he’d send Parpat a message, but he’s not sure if it went through in time.”

Shepard considered, watching the kids. The kids certainly _looked_ like they’d been through hell, as could be expected of three children going through customs without their parents. Their clothes hung off them, their eyes were dull, and what they could see of the littlest one stood with an ominous sway. But even in spite of the slack in his mandibles and the slump of his shoulders, the oldest still lifted his head when Shepard met his eye, straightened up a little, moved his brothers a little further back behind himself. So Shepard just took a deep breath, raised their hands a little, and said, “Let’s try this again. I’m Shepard, I’m a Spectre, I can help you. What are your names?”

The oldest hesitated, eyed them again, then took a deep breath. “I’m Casbius.” He motioned for his brothers to come back out. “This is Kaevus, and Eritus.” He nodded to the gray first, then the toddler.

Eritus, still holding Casbius’s pants, edged out enough Shepard could see the upper half of his face. Casbius looked down at him and reached down to gently take his hand. “Come on, Eri, it’s okay,” he coaxed. “This is Shepard, they’re friendly. They know Parpat.”

“Parpat?” Eritus echoed, looking up at Shepard with big eyes and mandibles slowly creeping upward.

“Yeah, buddy, Parpat. You wanna go see Parmat and Parpat, don’t you?”

“_Gūe Parpat zuyut’däp?”_

“Of _course_ Parpat will have breakfast, what makes you think he _wouldn’t_ have breakfast?”

That jogged a thought in Shepard’s brain, and they cleared their throat. “How old are you guys?”

All three looked up, and Casbius cleared his throat. “I’m ten. Kaevus is seven, and Eri’s three.”

They nodded slowly. “Uh-huh. And, uh.” They shoved their hands in their pockets. “How long’s it been since you guys ate?”

And that was how they found themselves in an autopiloted taxi with three turian children, getting fast food from a restaurant they’d never heard of but the younger two went nuts for when they saw the sign, and listening to the older one recount the trip to the Citadel with two little brothers and no parents as the taxi trundled along in morning rush hour traffic up to the Presidium. The taxi wasn’t exactly equipped for a three-year-old turian, but Shepard set it to drive carefully, and he was securely buckled in, and Kaevus assured them via his brother he wouldn’t move his arm from around his little brother’s tiny torso, just in case. It probably didn’t make eating very easy, but Kaevus seemed determined not to risk his precious cargo, so Shepard didn’t dare suggest he use both hands. He seemed like a good kid.

So instead, they just tried to drink their smoothie quietly as Casbius rambled about the customs process, waiting until after he’d finished describing it in surprisingly jargon-y terms to speak. “So you know a lot about civics, huh?”

Casbius blinked, and they swore they could hear the gears in his head grinding to a halt as his neck turned blue. “Uh… Yeah, I guess.” He ducked his head, fluttering his mandibles. “I want to be a lawyer when I grow up, like my parpat. He used to be a prosecutor, back on Palaven, and then when they moved him to the Citadel, before he got made an ambassador. Dad says he was _undefeated.”_ His eyes glittered, much more alive than he’d seemed earlier. Shepard wondered if it was the food, or the turn of conversation.

They nodded sagely, taking a bite of egg-cheese-and-sausage sandwich. They preferred the ones on croissants, but a turian fast food joint didn’t exactly have a huge selection for non-turians, so they rolled with it. They could get something better later, once the brothers had been taken care of. “Are your parents lawyers, too?”

Casbius shook his head. “No, Dad’s a… Kae, what’s the word? What Dad does.”

“_Ur__ödätöuu.”_

“Yeah, he’s an astronomer.”

Shepard took a moment to remember that Casbius was, in fact, speaking the same language as his brother, and he just happened to have a translator. By the time they came back, the ten-year-old had already moved on. “… and Mom’s with the TEC,” he said, puffing his chest out proudly. “She designs bridges and stuff. This one time, she took us to a job site where they were building a bridge she’d helped design, and she explained how it all stayed up, and the construction workers let us walk out on a part that was already done, and it was _really_ cool.”

“_Smūyus vzo,”_ Kaevus accused from the backseat.

“Shut _up,_ I did _not!”_ Casbius barked, neck turning blue as the baby laughed and clapped at his… embarrassment? Whatever Kaevus had said.

“_Nips vzo ftuke! Nastus bämok vzot, xuki–”_

“Oh, hey, look, we’re at the Presidium!” Shepard announced, maybe a little too loudly. They wondered if these kids were experienced enough with aliens to recognize tone without subvocals, and if so, if they knew _desperation_ when they heard it.

If they did, it didn’t matter, because the arguing abruptly cut off and was replaced by excited gasps and burbling. Casbius seemed to wake up a little, leaning forward to look out the windshield with wide eyes at the greenery and buildings and reservoirs rushing by. Shepard smiled in spite of themselves, glancing over their shoulder to see the younger two pressing themselves against the windows to get their own eyefuls. “So, if your grandpa works in the embassies, do you guys ever get up to see the Presidium?”

“Sometimes,” Casbius commented absently, head swiveling to follow the statues below as they passed. “We usually just stay in the Wards by Parpat’s place and go to, like, museums and vids and stuff. There’s a science museum with a… a thing you can simulate tornadoes with, a couple levels down from Parpat’s building. We go every time we visit, and we see who can make the biggest and coolest one. And they have a whole floor about the body and disease and stuff, and what’s different between turians and other species, that’s Kae’s favorite.”

Shepard smiled a little bigger. “Does he want to be a doctor when he grows up?”

Casbius glanced back at his brother, then at Shepard and shrugged. “Maybe. He likes the scanner that lets you watch your muscles and bones and stuff when you move.”

Out of the corner of their eye, Shepard saw Kaevus perk up and turn his head, like he’d guessed they were talking about him from his brother’s response. That was the only warning they got before a gray blur lurched forward, a skinny hand jabbed toward the windshield, and a two-toned voice yipped something in their ear that they didn’t need a translator to tell them meant _“Look!”_

They turned their head, and sure enough, Kaevus had spotted their destination. The Citadel Tower rose from the horizon like a lighthouse beckoning them in, jutting out from the main ring tall and proud. While the kids chittered with excitement, Shepard leaned forward to get a better look. There was a podium set up on the top step, probably for one of the press conferences that had become a twice-daily event in the past month, but only a few lone figures wandered through, none of them accompanied by camera drones. They let out a soft sigh of relief. “Alright, looks like we can just waltz right in the front door,” they told the kids. “Do you guys know your way from there, or do you want me to show you?”

Casbius spared a glance over at them, then went back to the view as the skycar started to circle around. “I haven’t been to the embassies in a while,” he admitted. “Like I said, we usually just hang out in the Wards.”

Shepard nodded, mentally wincing. _They_ didn’t really know the way off the top of their head, either. Most of the times they’d met the councilor, _he’d_ come to _them,_ usually in Udina’s office. _At least there’s signs._

They opted not to tell the kids this, instead letting them lead the way out of the taxi and right up the steps. Or, well, _Kaevus_ led the way. Casbius, despite his longer legs, was slowed down by helping Eritus get out, and then by his little brother wanting to be carried up the steps. Supposedly, Eritus’s whining, petulant chirps and trills were him saying his feet hurt and he didn’t want to walk anymore, but from how close some of the words were getting to wails, Shepard wasn’t so sure. They wanted to ask how much sleep the toddler had gotten on the shuttle, but supposed the word _sleep_ wasn’t one a bleary-eyed turian teenager wanted to hear while carrying his little brother up steps he could probably manage himself.

They decided to just count their blessings that security just glanced their little pack over, recognized Shepard, nodded to them, and waved them through. If there was _one_ perk to being a famous face...

The atrium was nearly deserted as they herded the brothers ahead of them, still just a little too early for the Tower’s usual denizens to arrive. A couple salarians gossiped by their own embassy doors, an asari and a volus were walking towards the stairs together, and further off, by the fountain, two turians and one human were talking in voices just barely too quiet to overhear. If they squinted, Shepard thought the figures looked vaguely familiar, so they started heading their way.

The closer they got, the more they realized _why_ the figures seemed familiar. The human’s voice drifted over, and they very nearly pulled up short at Udina’s distinctive rolling baritone. The taller of the two turians, a crested brown, gave them even _more_ pause as his markings became clearer and they realized they’d walked straight into a discussion between councilors. But then, they reasoned, if anybody could help find the kids’ grandparents, it was the embassy boss himself, right?

Apparently, the brothers agreed.

“Parpat! Parmat!” Kaevus shrieked, and before Shepard or Casbius could grab him, he’d bolted, feet slamming against the marble floor. The adults turned sharply, just in time for the councilor to get plowed into at light-speed.

To Shepard’s surprise, the old drake stayed upright, simply staggered for a moment (with Udina and the smaller, crestless turian Shepard now recognized as his wife Aediteia both hastily reaching out to help steady him). Shepard winced, waiting for the confused blustering and questions about who this random kid tackling him was._ Sorry, sir, we’re trying to find his grandfather, he was too fast, I’m not great at catching baby turians._

But instead, Sparatus looked down at the bundle of gray hugging him around the waist in a death grip,took a moment to process what was going on, then crumpled down into a kneel in the same motion as he pulled the middle brother into a tight hug. _“Kaevus,_ thank the spirits.”

Shepard boggled, but they were apparently the only one. Casbius trilled and ran ahead, leaving Shepard staring after him. The Lady Sparatus met him halfway, all but sprinting to close the distance and dragging the two to herself. “Boys, boys, my boys, I’m so glad you’re safe,” she all but sobbed, shoving her head against Casbius’s in a rough nuzzle. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” she fretted, already prying an eagerly chirping Eritus from Casbius’s arms. “Here, give him to me, I’ve got him.”

Shepard’s legs moved unbidden, slowly pulling them forward towards the reuniting family. Casbius’s voice was shaking as he recounted their ordeal to his grandmother, but before too long, Aediteia hushed him and pulled his head down into her cowl. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” she murmured, meeting Shepard’s eyes as they passed and giving a small nod. “It’s okay, you’re safe now, Mom and Dad are on their way, it’ll be alright, _shh.”_

Kaevus was also chattering away, the councilor listening just as attentively as he did Shepard in meetings, though his expression looked a lot more like this was something he _wanted_ to hear about, as concerning as Shepard assumed it was. Hearing about your grandchildren fleeing the _Reapers_ probably wasn’t good for you, they reasoned. A gray hand flashed back to point at Shepard, coupled with more excited, happy-sounding babbling, and the old drake looked up to meet their eyes for half a second before returning his attention to his grandson. “Is that so,” he rumbled when Kaevus paused to breathe, his voice much softer than Shepard could ever remember it being. “You _have_ had an adventure, haven’t you?”

Kaevus nodded, shoulders slowly falling before he rushed forward and hid his face against Sparatus’s keel. The councilor’s hand came up to softly stroke the boy’s neck, and Shepard was vaguely startled to realize they could hear low, _pigeon-like_ cooing coming out of him. “Shhh, I know,” he soothed, only just barely loud enough for Shepard to pick up. “You’ve been through a lot. It’s alright, you’re with us now, you’re safe.”

Casbius spoke up from his grandmother’s tight hug. “Can it be over now?”

Shepard cracked a small smile, and the two older turians chuckled. “Soon, dear,” Aediteia soothed, smoothing her hand over his crest. “Be patient, we’ll go home and get you settled soon.”

Councilor Sparatus gave Kaevus another hug, then rose to his feet, one hand on the boy’s shoulder as small claws clutched at his tunic. He faced Udina first, one mandible rolling small circles. Before he could speak, Udina gave a respectful little bow. “I’ll let the others know you’ll be out for the day,” he offered.

Sparatus’s mandibles rose, and he returned the gesture. “Thank you, Councilor. I’ll call in later, once we know if we’ll need more time.”

Udina retreated, Sparatus looked to Shepard next, and something in his eyes tugged at their heart. Instead of the stern-faced, proud drake they remembered from Council meetings, all they saw was a tired old man with barely a glimmer of relief in haunted eyes_._ “Thank you, Shepard,” he said, dropping into an even deeper bow than the one he’d given Udina. “Words can’t express how much it means to us to have our grandsons safe.”

Shepard cleared their throat and shuffled their feet. “It was nothing, really,” they said. “I happened to be walking by, and saw them alone, and, well.” They shrugged. “I couldn’t just _leave_ them.”

“And we’re very glad you didn’t,” Aediteia hummed, finally releasing Casbius and slowly rocking Eritus. “We didn’t see Areus’s message until the drive here today, we were going to make a run for the docks as soon as we possibly could.”

Shepard nodded, feeling their cheeks slowly heat. “Yeah, I, uh. Would’ve called, but they didn’t, uh… say _you_ were the grandpa working in the embassies.”

Both adult turians’ brow plates rose, and Casbius’s neck turned faintly blue as he ducked his head. “Dad said not to tell _anyone,”_ he protested. “Just to be safe.”

That got a slight mandible rise from his grandparents, and Aediteia hugged him to her side. “Fair enough,” she chuckled, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. Looking back up, she added, “We really can’t thank you enough, Shepard. Let us know if you need _anything,_ within reason, we’ll do what we can.”

Shepard flushed and ducked their head. “Oh, no, ma’am, I couldn’t,” they told their feet. “Not for something like this, I wouldn’t feel right about it. I mean, they’re your _grandkids.”_

Sparatus hummed, and Shepard chanced a look back up. The drake was watching them thoughtfully, still reassuringly rubbing Kaevus’s back as the boy did his very best impression of a barnacle. “Well, allow us to treat you to dinner before you leave next, at the very least. A compromise.”

They considered, then offered a grin. “Well, I try to make it a habit not to turn down free food,” they joked. “I’ll call you.”

Sparatus nodded. “But not until tomorrow at the earliest.” He looked down at Kaevus, now pulling him closer in a hug. “These three need to get home.”

Eritus was already dozing off against his grandmother’s cowl, but his brothers seemed to brighten at the last word. Aediteia nodded, adjusting the toddler’s pose so he’d be more comfortable. “Baths first, I think,” she hummed, looking between the three. “We’ve got plenty of supplies at home, Areus said he and Sivia grabbed what they could, but I’m guessing we’ll need to go out shopping later. _After_ baths and naps, yes?”

The older boys nodded. Shepard decided to take that as a dismissal, bowed, and backed away towards where Udina was patiently waiting. “I’ll get out of your hair, then. Crest. Plates. Whatever.” They added a small wave to Casbius and Kaevus. “Nice meeting you guys. Tell your folks I said ‘hi.’”

As the couple started to gently herd their grandsons back towards the door, Casbius waved back. “We will!” he called. “Thank you!”

Shepard kept waving until Casbius had taken his grandfather’s hand and turned away, then shoved their hands in their pockets and straightened up as Udina meandered over. “I wasn’t interrupting anything important, was I?”

Udina shook his head with a snort. “Believe it or not, the councilor was actually letting me know he’d need to miss our meeting later this morning while he picked up his grandchildren from the docks. You had perfect timing. What _I’d_ like to know, is how you somehow missed the oldest one has his grandfather’s eyes.”

Shepard paused, blinking slowly as the ran the mental comparison. _Whoops._ “Uh… Okay, listen, in my defense, I try to avoid eye contact with the old man as much as humanly possible. Besides, there’s probably _plenty_ of turians with eyes that color, right?”

Udina sighed. “Shepard, you never cease to amaze.”

**Author's Note:**

> me? writing purely self-indulgent fluff and posting it because my friends love and support me and think it's a great concept? it's more likely than you think
> 
> i would just like to establish kaevus, the second sparatus grandchild, was named years before andromeda came out and had a turian by a very similar name, so nobody go throwing any accusations around


End file.
